Next In Line
by Skiddle
Summary: After Dick becomes Batman full time does he need a Robin? First timer. I tried to stay in the canon with a few liberties . Please R&R. Thanks. Oh yeah - doesn't look like updates will be forthcoming.


Next In Line

"I'm going to enjoy this." Batman murmured to himself.

Even though it had been nearly a year since Bruce had asked Dick to take the mantle permanently he still wasn't quite comfortable in the role. Sometimes he felt like a bad pretender, sometimes like it was the role he was born for. More than anything he struggled with whether he had made the right decision when he had told Bruce yes. He'd built a nice life in Bludhaven and it was hard to leave it behind. Swinging around a city the size of Gotham gave his brain plenty of opportunity to grind on these questions and it didn't make for a pleasant patrol schedule.

Tonight would be different. He was out on the fringe of Gotham investigating a lead about a meth lab in New Day Mobile Home Park. The name was comical – the only "new" for miles was the word on the sign. When he'd exited the Batmobile he heard the screams – domestic disturbance. The lab would have to wait.

He walked brazenly across the courtyard toward the sound of the fight. Not much chance of anyone jumping him out here. Anyone looking out their window would either be scared or wouldn't want his attention anyway.

When Batman reached lot 217 he saw what was causing the noise. Gazing through the glass French doors on the trailer he could see a man –big, possibly ex-military judging by the buzz cut and muscular build – backhanding his wife onto the kitchen table. He started moving toward the doors and analyzed the scene. There was some blood on the white paneled walls – apparently this had been going on for some time. As he reached the deck he saw a teen aged boy coming at the back of the big man with a beer bottle. The teen brought the bottle down on the back of the man's head. The man's face registered surprise but other than that the blow didn't have much effect. As the man turned to face the boy Batman reached the door. No resistance met his hand as he slid the door open – fortunately for the boy it was unlocked.

A quickly thrown Batarang to the man's upraised fist got his attention even better than the bottle to the head had. Again he turned but instead of seeing a young boy he came eye to eye with a 6 foot tall Bat. An ashen expression came across the man's face as he realized exactly whom he was facing. The fear didn't last long – by the strong smell of alcohol in the room Batman guessed he'd been drinking a lot of liquid courage. Apparently thinking he'd have the same success with Batman that he'd had with the woman and boy the man charged. Batman met him with a quick side step and elbow to the back. The blow landed hard and the man went to his knees. It didn't take him long to regain his feet and he spun again to face Batman. Having taken a step back after dropping the elbow, Batman watched him advance. The man brought his fists up and swung first with the right. An almost casual forearm block brought on a swing from the left, which Batman side stepped. The man's momentum carried him off balance across Batman's chest and the Bat took this opportunity to grab him by the back of the head and bring his knee into the man's face, breaking his nose. A hard chop to the back of the neck took put the man out for the count and he collapsed face down on the floor.

Seeing a reflection in the blank TV screen, Batman whirled around. Sometimes those in abuse situations will come to the defense of their abuser and Batman was ready. Instead he found the eyes of the young man who had come at the big man with a bottle. He registered no fear as he addressed Batman – "Can you tell how bad she's hurt?" the teen asked.

"Yes. Call 911. Tell them I'm here." Following the brief exchange Batman glanced to the floor. Other than the rapidly expanding pool of blood on the tile floor the man appeared to be relatively all right, his chest expanding and contracting with regular breath. Batman moved towards the table on which the lady lay. She was young – maybe 30. Blonde and probably pretty when she wasn't bleeding and covered with bruises. As he reached the head of the table where her face was the lady began to awaken. The eyelids fluttered and slowly came open. She screamed as she saw the Batman standing over her and went to scramble away. "Don't worry" Batman said gently. Gaining her orientation, the lady stop scooting across the table and came to a rest. Tears filled her eyes and her head dropped. Leaving the phone her son came to her and put his arms around her. "It's okay Mom," the son said gently as he held his mother. She slowly swung her legs around to the edge of the table and stood up. "Where is he?" she asked. A low groan from the living room floor gave her an answer.

Realizing that the man was waking up Batman stepped off the kitchen floor back into the living room and knelt down, placing his knee on the back of the neck of the man. Pulling his hands behind him, Batman placed cuffs on his wrists then pulled a package of smelling salts from his utility belt. Apparently the man's broken nose worked well enough for him to the smell odor of the salts that Batman had placed under his face on the floor. Coming to with a start his head pulled back and Batman took the opportunity to remind him that he had company. As he pushed the man's face (and nose) back down into the floor Batman brought his face close to the man's ear. His voice was less like speech and more like a growl. "It would be wise for you to lay still."

The lady had gathered herself and her son was helping her wash the blood from her nose and face at the kitchen sink. A knock at the front door signaled the arrival of the cops. Opening the door and stepping back, Batman allowed the officers to enter the trailer. The scene was pretty self-explanatory, especially considering the blood on Batman's knee.

As the officers filled out their report Batman talked to the officers. Most of the cops in Gotham had a respect for Batman, the result of Jim Gordon's tenure as commissioner and positive relationship with new Commisioner Montoya. Batman found out that this was the residence of Tom McGinnis and his wife Mary. The boy's name was Terry and he was the couple's only son. Apparently this was a relatively common event at the McGinnis home. Batman also learned that while the McGinnis family was new to this particular trailer park they were no strangers to domestic disturbances. The husband had multiple battery convictions, both from similar instances to tonight and public altercations with whoever.

Leaving the officers, Batman walked to the patrol car where Tom was sitting handcuffed in the back. Retrieving his cuffs from the officer by the car, Batman asked for a moment alone with Tom. He opened the door, reached in, and turned Tom's head to face his own. "Listen closely. You're now my personal hobby. I don't care if your wife presses charges – if she ever has even the slightest problem from you I'll make sure you never touch anyone again. The same goes for your son. Understand?" Tom refused to answer, staring at a spot on the Batman's chest. "I'll take that as a yes" said Batman as he closed the door.

Tapping the comlink activator on his belt, Batman spoke into the air. "Oracle." A voice came through the speaker in his mask – "Yes Batman."

"Call Leslie. Have her send a car to lot 217 in New Day trailer park. Tell her I'm sending her a mother and her son. Domestic battery. They need a place to get some rest. Tell Leslie to talk to the mother. I'll be by to visit them later."

"Consider it done," sounded in his ear followed by a click as Oracle closed the connection.

Batman turned to go back to the trailer.

"I almost lost it tonight" Dick said to his wife. It was daylight and he'd just come back in from patrol.

"You know I hate bullies" he said as he ran both hands over the top of his head. "Seeing that guy hitting her set me off. I could have taken him down easier but it was all I could do to only break his nose."

"I didn't know it'd be like this Babs" said Dick as he sat down on the edge of their bed. "Last time, after Jean-Paul, it felt more like a game – like a kid wearing his dad's clothes and pretending to be him. I had fun with Tim. Not much fun now. I find that I'm on the edge. It's all I can do to keep myself in check – I'm constantly battling some kind of rage. I have no idea where it's coming from but sometimes it's all I can do to keep it from getting lose."

Barbara set down on the bed with him and took her husband's head into her chest. "I don't know what to say Dick. I was so young when I was wearing the tights. I don't know if I ever realized just how serious what I was doing was – for me it was more or less a thrill ride. Have you talked to Bruce about this?"

"No. I don't want to bother him. He's busy training the Titans – he doesn't need to waste his time babysitting me."

"Listen buddy – I'm not stupid" his wife said. "More like you don't want him to know you are having any problems. Honestly, he's the one who asked you to do this. And I'm sure he'd love to hear from you. Give him a call, okay?"

Silence was the only response she received.

"Tell you what Mr. Grayson – you call him tomorrow or try surviving with out Oracle next time you go out. Sleeping on the couch won't be good for your crime-fighting career either. I trust I've made my self clear" she said as leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Now let's get some sleep."

"Nice to hear from you Dick."

Dick had called him on a secure frequency from the Batcave. Bruce was somewhere in orbit above the earth, working as a special consultant to the JLA. Since the Justice League had take control of the Titans they had brought Bruce in to train the "extraordinary youngsters" in the finer points of crime fighting from one of the greatest ever.

"How are the students Bruce?"

"Doing well. This latest group has some real promising minds. Too lazy, but we're working on that. I'm sure you didn't call to chitchat though. What's on your mind?"

"Well, I'm not sure how to..." Dick stammered. "It's not really a problem. Barbara wanted me to call..."

"Dick. You are babbling," said Bruce's voice through the computer speakers. Bruce saw his protégé redden with embarrassment. Bruce had known Dick for so long and the only time he acted this way was when Dick was particularly frustrated. Calm as ice everywhere else – Dick seemed to tense up when he had to come to Bruce for anything.

Bruce broke the brief silence. "Let me guess – being the Bat is becoming a lot different than it was being Nightwing."

"Yeah. It's like I'm fighting a battle with myself. I broke up a domestic last night and everything in me wanted to paralyze the guy. I kept myself in check but it's like I'm running down hill. It's getting harder and harder to control my anger. That's the crazy thing – I don't have anything to be angry about."

The image of Bruce Wayne on the computer rubbed his eyes before responding. "I'm amazed it took you so long to come to this point Dick. I know what you are talking about – I had to battle it quite a bit in my career. Sometimes I thought it was an asset – made me tougher but I've since realized I was wrong."  
  
Bruce continued: "I came to realize that the cowl has a mind of it's own. I actually hoped it was a quirk peculiar to only my psychosis. However, I had suspicions it wouldn't be. I'm sorry you have to deal with this. Something about being the Bat brings out the animal side of you – makes you...brutal, edgy. I'm not sure how to explain it, don't know exactly where it comes from but I do know that it's an easy mindset to fall into."

"Any solutions?" Dick asked.

"Not that's going to help you." Bruce answered. "I found that the more time I spent solo, patrolling on my own, the worse it got. The only thing that helped was having a partner. Something about having a Robin with me, even with Jason, helped me stay 'human', less raw. It helped me keep the Bat in check. Watching you, Jason, and Tim softened me. You guys were kids – it was still fun for you. Maybe keeping an eye on you kept me grounded too. I can't pin it down but that was the only thing that helped me.

"Fat lot of good that does me" Dick said and smiled. Part of Dick accepting Bruce's request to take over for him as Batman was that Tim would replace Dick as Nightwing in Bludhaven. Things in 'haven had improved considerably in Dick's time there but he didn't feel right leaving the city alone so suddenly. When Bruce approached Tim about the opportunity he accepted and dived into the new role enthusiastically. Tim had no idea but if he had turned it down there would be no changing of the guard in the Batcave. Dick had sworn to take care of Bludhaven and as much as he loved Bruce and wanted to honor his mentor's wishes he had to take care of his own city first. Thankfully, it hadn't been a problem. Tim was doing well but his success in the 'haven mean he wasn't here to partner with Dick.

"Well, thanks for the time Bruce. If you think of any other solutions let me know."

"No problem Dick. I wish I could have been more help. By the way, I'd like to bring you up sometime. The students love Nightwing and I think they'd enjoy having the original teach a class or two would be a nice surprise. You game?"

"Sure. Let me know when – I've just got to let Cassandra know." He'd never show it but having the respect of his mentor, the greatest detective who ever lived, was flattering to Dick and he valued that as much as anything else he'd accomplished in life.

"Will do" Bruce responded and reached for the switch that would end the connection. Dick did the same but before he closed the connection Bruce spoke again.

"Dick – one more thing."

"Yeah Bruce?"

"Thanks. Being out of the costume is still hard. One of the things that helps me accept it is knowing that I left the city in good hands."

The connection ended before Dick could reply.

After talking with Bruce, Dick suited up and went on patrol. The night proved fairly uneventful. Over time the Bat-clan had grown. Batgirl and Huntress had really come in to their own and the crime rate in Gotham bore testimony to that fact. There was still enough to go around, make no mistake, but it was nice knowing that there was competent help working with him, a luxury Dick had rarely known in Bludhaven.

In between mopping up some minor crimes – stuff Dick had been handling since he was a child – he was left with plenty of time to ponder his situation.

Surely some of the problem was Dick's reservations about taking the Batman role. Part of the situation at the trailer park was Dick's inherent disgust for bullies. His parents had died by the hands of mafia tough guys and since then Dick had harbored a special loathing for those who took advantage of the weaker.

Nonetheless, that wasn't the sum total of the problem. Perhaps Bruce was right – maybe the Bat had it's own ideas about who it should be. Not to stretch ridiculousness too far but it was easy to give in to one's darker side in the cowl. The cops expected it, the criminals expected it, and even the victims did. Combine that with a person's own dislike for those who prey on others and it makes sense that Dick was tempted to allow his psyche's dark side out more and more.

Tomorrow was Sunday. Maybe a good night's rest would help him come up with a fix.

Sundays meant light weights and acrobatic training in the morning and time with Barbara after that.

Bruce was Dick's mentor, best friend and father. Still, Dick handled being Batman different than Bruce had. For starters, Dick was a married man. He'd been in love with Barbara Gordon since the first time he laid his eyes on her as a child and he'd eventually came around to taking her for his bride.

Bruce had used women to perpetuate his reputation as a playboy but Dick took his role as husband seriously. Not that Barbara was the kind of woman who could ever be taken lightly. When Dick had taken over for Bruce one of the first things he had done was institute a rotating schedule for himself, Cassandra, and Huntress on Sundays. All three would come if needed but when it wasn't their day they took the time to tend to personal matters. Sundays were normally down days on the crime front and it allowed the crime fighters to have lives outside the costume.

Determined to have some semblance of a normal life Dick and Barbara had decided that they would work toward a more traditional lifestyle. They had become regular attendees of a church in Gotham and were enjoying the community that the church offered. After church on Sunday was lunch in Gotham with friends and then time back at Wayne Manor or somewhere else with just each other. Dick and Barbara had a good idea of how much work that even the most normal marriage needed, not too mention one as unique as their own.

That evening Dick decided that he and Barbara would swing by Dr. Tompkins and see the McGinnis family. As Batman he had promised to check in on them but he thought it might be nice for the Grayson family to meet them as well.

Dr. Leslie Tompkins was an honest too goodness miracle worker. She had nursed Bruce back from a broken spine after his confrontation with Bane, helped Barbara regain the use of her lower body, and had become a trusted member of the family. There were few people in the world Dick trusted more and no doctor he believed in more.

Although Dr. Tompkins was growing somewhat aged she still kept a busy schedule and was always available when Dick (or any of the rest of the Bat clan) needed her. Her practice was located on her family's farm a short drive outside of Gotham and it was always a pleasure to visit her rural residence. A call made on Dick's cell phone and he and Barbara were off.

Pulling on to Leslie's property, Dick and Barbara were greeted by one of Leslie's hired men. They lived on site, taking care of the farm and running errands for Dr. Tompkins. It was they who had picked the McGinnis family up Friday night.

Leslie met the couple at the front door and welcomed them into her house. The kitchen table was still littered with the plates from a late Sunday lunch. As Dick and Barbara followed Leslie into the kitchen they saw who Dick knew to be Mary and Terry McGinnis sitting at the far end of the table.

During introductions Dick took the time to subtly study Mary's face. It had only been a short time but Leslie's medical magic was working – Mary's wounds were already noticeably better. She seemed refreshed – time spent in Leslie's company seemed to have that effect – but her son seemed withdrawn, quiet. Dick couldn't quite get a read on him.

The warmth of the summer had caused Terry to dress for warmer weather. Up close, in the light, Dick could see Terry's well-defined arms and muscular lower legs. He had apparently inherited his dad's dedication to physical fitness and Dick guessed he was quite athletic.

The Grayson's stayed only briefly, feigning a desire to check up on Leslie as their reason for coming by. Now that Dick had gotten a chance to make sure that the McGinnis family was doing well he and Barbara prepared to make their way back to the manor. After promising to have Leslie and the McGinnis's over for dinner soon they were on their way.

Several weeks passed before Dick came in contact with the McGinnis family again. Tom was convicted of domestic battery and violation of parole. Sentenced to 15 months in prison, Mary and Terry had now had an opportunity to get a jump-start on a new life.

Leslie had convinced Mary that the best thing for herself and Terry was to try and start again, apart from Tom. Batman would see to it that Tom wouldn't bother them unless they wanted to see him. A generous (secret) donation to the McGinnis' from the Wayne coffers had given them a house in an upper-middle class neighborhood near a good high school. It turned out that Terry was a gifted basketball player and the school near their new neighborhood had one of the best coaches in Gotham, not to mention educational program. Mary's new job at Wayne-Grayson Corp ensured she'd have a chance to give Terry a new life.

Honestly, Dick had not thought of the McGinnis' for some time, consumed in the day-to-day regime of being the Batman. Killer Croc had recently escaped from Arkham and rounding him up had taken longer than it should have.

Terry McGinnnis came suddenly to the forefront of Batman's consciousness one night while he was on patrol.

The police scanner was reporting a group of juveniles loitering near a storefront in Gotham Heights. There had been a rash of break-ins in that area and Batman thought he might be able to put a stop to it tonight. Often a run in with Batman at an early age, especially if the person was just experimenting with petty crime, would reveal the error of their ways to them and help them find a better use for their leisure time.

Parking a few blocks away from the location of the teenagers, Batman used his grappling hook to ascend to the top of a row of buildings. He wasn't above using a sudden drop-in to scare some sense into these teens. Quickly moving along the rooftops, Batman came to the top of the building the teens were gathered in front of. Attaching his grappling hook securely to one of the building's gargoyles and began his descent.

The landing was perfect – the group of boys never looked up until Batman was upon them. The result of his appearance was amazing – one of the boys actually squealed before taking heel. Technically, the boys were violating curfew, which put them in as much danger as any that they could cause, so Batman didn't mind scaring them a little. It took Batman a moment to process Terry's face – he took off rather quickly and Batman barely got a glimpse but there was no mistaking it – Terry was one of the boys. He hadn't done anything but it wasn't a good thing that he was out unsupervised in such a neighborhood at this early hour.

Not long after that Dick got a call at his office in his office at WayneCorp. It was Mary McGinnis. Leslie had given Mary the number to Dick's personal line.

"Mr. Grayson?"

"Please – call me Dick. What can I do for you?"

"Well, first of all I should thank you for the house and my job here at WayneCorp." Mary said.

"I don't know what you are talking about..." Dick started to reply but he was cut off by Mary.

"Please don't insult my intelligence Mr. Grayson. I do appreciate the gifts but that actually isn't why I called."

Dick was interested now – Mary was showing more spunk than he had anticipated. Her voice was tense, betraying anxiety.

"Well Ms. McGinnis, please continue." Dick spoke into the receiver.

"It's just Mary. Please forgive me if I was rude. It's just... it's my son, Terry. I'm worried about him and Leslie said you might be able to give me some direction."

"I'll be happy to help in any way I can Mary" Dick responded. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, it might not sound serious to you. I've caught Terry sneaking out a couple of times and I've been told by some of his teachers that he isn't associating with the best group of kids he could have chosen. Like I said, it might not be anything but Terry's had such a hard time...living with Tom...well, it wasn't a healthy environment. And now he's got no male role models. I mean, he likes his coach, but that's about it. It's just that Terry is such a bright kid. And he's so physically gifted – I'm afraid to see him make a bad decision and ruin...I just don't want him ending up like his father..."

Dick realized that Mary was on the verge of tears.

"Ms. McGinnis...Mary...I understand why you are so upset. I have a friend that deals with "extraordinary youngsters". It's a leadership development program. It's like a boarding school – education, training – would you like for me to find out if they are accepting new students?" Dick asked.

"Yes. Yes, I would. Thank you Mr. Grayson."

"Please Mary, call me Dick."

On the surface the Thomas Wayne Center for Adolescent Development seemed to be exactly what it purported to be. Established as the legacy of Bruce Wayne, entrepreneur and philanthropist, the TWC was the pinnacle of alternative education. The campus stretched across a rolling 300 acre spread in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains and it's remote locale gave it's students the necessary freedom from distraction required to get the most out of their challenging and innovative curriculum.

The student body was composed of a unique mix of the country's teenage population. One could only become part of the school's program after completing a rigorous application process, which the students joked, made applying to the Naval Academy look like a walk in the park. The joke on campus was that one had to be able to "save the world by yourself" in order to get in.

Although that standard was far from the truth, it was Bruce Wayne's vision to see some of the students enrolled eventually reach that level.

While on campus, the students were constantly being evaluated by Chancellor Wayne. These evaluations served two purposes. For most students it was tool to help them specialize in their education. Those that demonstrated a higher proficiency in, for example, communication, were funneled toward an educational path that helped them become the great political leaders of the next generation.

The second purpose was less obvious to all but the highest level of Chancellor Wayne's staff. Bruce used these evaluations to find the students who, even amongst such remarkable peers, demonstrated capabilities and gifts superior to those of their fellow students. These "best of the best" students were given an opportunity to develop skills that would serve them in less normative paths.

For years the JLA, the Justice League of America, had stood as the ultimate source of defense for the Earth. Composed of the greatest superheroes on the planet, the JLA's unique mission called for unique individuals to help it run at its greatest efficiency. It was to this end that Bruce called the students he culled from the population of the TWC.

Some were funneled into a program designed to train them as field operatives that would lay the groundwork for JLA operations. Others were trained to handle the diplomatic follow up necessary when the JLA operated in countries (or planets) outside of their normal stomping grounds.

It was into this environment that Terry McGinnis stepped and excelled. Terry's admission to the TWC was merely a formality after his evaluation. His scores on the IQ test and physical fitness evaluation were some of the highest in his class. Having Chancellor Wayne's endorsement on top of that made his acceptance as good as guaranteed and the young McGinnis did not disappoint.

Although McGinnis was somewhat reserved he consistently finished the top of his classes. Apparently Terry's father had involved him in strength training from a relatively young age and his physical development showed the fruits of those labors. Additionally, McGinnis was a natural athlete, which was only enhanced by the PE courses at the TWC. After a short 6 months Terry had risen to prominence in Bruce's evaluations and he was tabbed to be presented with an opportunity to enter a higher curriculum at the start of his second semester.

Dick made sure that he kept informed as to Terry's development through Bruce and made a point to make time to visit the TWC more often than he had before. Relatively frequently Dick came on campus to act as a guest professor or to hold a workshop for the students in various subjects.


End file.
